


Everything stays

by KamemylTeaSaiyan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: CRC, Clone Rights Coalition, Hurt No Comfort, Major character death - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 14:22:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30056832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KamemylTeaSaiyan/pseuds/KamemylTeaSaiyan
Summary: Angst
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Everything stays

You see it; a break in the trees up ahead, illuminated by the embers of a dying fire. You can make out the silhouette of a person slumped back against a tree at the other side of the fire. 

Your heart races, and you have to restrain yourself from bursting into the clearing and start yelling, knowing it would be a bad idea even if the figure slouched there is your vod’ika. She never did react well to sudden loud noises. You don’t want to upset her.

At the edge of the clearing, still hidden amongst the dense foliage, it’s hard to make out details in the low light, but the flickering fire briefly illuminates what looks like a sloppily painted image of a B1 battle droid’s face on the figures -Path’s- breastplate. 

You creep closer to her side and sniffing the air, smiling when you recognize the smell. It’s a little different, there’s something niggling at the back of your head that there’s something wrong about it, but it’s too small a thought to even consider.

You un-clip Pathfinder’s helmet from your belt before slipping into the clearing, kneeling beside her at the side where her hair obscures her face, and gently hold out the helmet to be easily within reach for her. “Hey Path, you forgot this.” You say gently, hoping not to alarm her. 

“Roger and Dodger are alright,” You add before Path’ can say anything, smile wobbly as you speak. “Tech is repairing them as we speak. They’ll be okay.” You go quiet, then, giving her a chance to react.

Silence.

“...Path?” 

The word leaves your lips in a harsh whisper. “Vod’ika?” You say a little louder, reaching out with your free hand to gently nudge her shoulder. “Path? You awa-“

She slumps to the side, falling easily as if you had pushed her, and lands against the grass with a heavy thump.

The helmet falls from your hand, forgotten.

You’re kneel there, frozen, hand still outstretched, staring at the space she had just occupied. Time seems to slow around you, the ambient sounds of the rainforest becoming muffled and distant until all you can hear is a deafening silence only broken occasionally by the crackling of the dying fire. 

Pathfinder doesn’t move. 

Slowly, you look down at her. She lays sprawled on her side, one arm pillowed beneath her head, tangled hair covering her face.

You could almost believe she had just laid down to take a nap, having worked past exhaustion at Roger and Dodger’s modifications. But it’s wrong. Maker, it looks so wrong.

This has to be a dream, Maker, this can’t be real! It has to be some kind of nightmare or- or- something! This can’t be real! 

Your eyes squeeze shut, you curl in on yourself, hoping desperately that this is just a nightmare, that any moment now you’ll wake up, having fallen asleep on the way back to Coruscant from Tatooine. That you’ll wake up and meet up with the others AND Pathfinder, have them recount the most boring story you’ve ever heard where nothing went wrong and everyone came out okay.

Your eyes open, and she’s still there. You’re still on Yavin. This isn’t a nightmare you can wake up from.

Your chest heaves, shaking with each breath as you finally reach out towards her face, brushing aside the knotted brown hair. It feels wrong, you know it’s wrong but you have to know- 

Your vision blurs, hands shaking as you gasp out a sob, pulling her up to you in a hug, holding her tight. Her eyes are open. Dull and flat with none of the burning fury you had so hoped to see. 

She didn’t even get the small mercy of passing into the force in her sleep.

She’s still warm, you realize as you hold her tight against you. The thought has your body shaking and you bury your face in her hair with a sob “I’m so sorry, Path. Kriff, I’m so, so, sorry...”

You just missed her.

As you hold her close, apologizing over and over for something beyond your control, you catch sight of the helmet. It lays on its side, visor facing you. It’s gaze accusatory, damning. 

Staring into the visors blank depths, you think you can almost hear Pathfinder’s disdainful grunt as she chastises you for being a sentimental fool.


End file.
